The large russet she-cat sat before the entrance to the camp, a little offset from its centre to allow others to roam in and out. Tawnyheart stared blankly at the space ahead of her, ears perked but not actively listening. Privately, she wished desperately to be relieved of this job; standing (or rather, sitting) guard in the night was not a fun activity. It was perhaps the most mundane chore ever, and she hated it. Heck, she couldn't think of anyone who would like it. 

A night patrol strolled in from the forest, sleek pelts sliding out of the shadows of the trees. Their leader had a rabbit in his jaws, and two more members of the group were lugging rodents. They nodded curtly to Tawnyheart before slipping past her and into camp, murmuring quietly among themselves. 

Tawnyheart heaved a sigh before she returned her attention to watching the outside. It was going to be a long night. 

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